


Hold Me Under

by Zaikyo



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-24
Updated: 2012-08-24
Packaged: 2017-11-12 18:24:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/494277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zaikyo/pseuds/Zaikyo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam never realized just how far below sea level he'd fallen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold Me Under

**Author's Note:**

> Spur of the moment inspiration from a Sam/Luci graphic which somehow caught my love instantly.

Sam never quite realized his place.

 

For the longest time it remained an uphill battle; pride against greater pride; one in which Sam had held face, and his ground, despite the ever stacking odds. It was never an ideal loss, not to Sam anyway. And maybe that was just fear in denial, fuck it if he knew. All that mattered was the win. The end game score of Team Free Will: 1, Team Apocalypse: 0. And God, for a while there it looked as if they might even pull the whole thing off.

So then when did it become like this?

When had the Devil snaked his way into Sam’s sheets, quieter than the night that always seemed to swallow his features into an obscure silhouette above Sam. When had the lines between what Sam thought he wanted, and what he really wanted become blurry and skewed? When had the world grown as cold as it was now?

Sam could never quite remember the day.

 

A cool hand clasped around the bare of Sam’s thigh, gently as if not to disturb his slumber. Though Sam wasn’t sleeping. Sam rarely slept at all these days. Lucifer knew that just as he knew so many other things.

Like how to make Sam bend, and yield, and break under his skin.

Yet the thrill of taking the young soldier seemed to always lie within the deceit. Soft touches and remorseful words; the Devil was good a those. And they seemed to work every time. Never mind that Sam knew better. He did, he really did. But somehow he always gave into what he never should have succumbed to in the first place. Somehow Sam was always weak. Somehow, he always lost.

 

A kiss.

 

Then another.

 

The first was always a test. The second, a mark of victory. One in which the Devil had always known he’d secure. And perhaps what made it that much more satisfying, was the fact that Sam still held a little hope. Like an addict, he always hoped to quit what he knew in his better mind he couldn’t.

Lucifer had always found that somewhat cute. And even more than that, he hoped it was something that Sam would never lose. That hope, that small sliver of light in the growing darkness:

 

That was what the Devil loved to abuse most.

Even at the edge of damnation with Satan far between his legs, Sam never quite realized his place was at the bottom of Lucifer’s ocean.

 

Yet Sam was _always_ drowning.

 

He just never knew how far Lucifer held his head underwater.


End file.
